


Tony stark: Yes Steve Rogers: Not recommended.

by Parissnow



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, BAMF Natasha Romanov, BAMF Pepper Potts, BAMF Tony Stark, F/M, Hurt Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark Friendship, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Protective James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Protective Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Pepper Potts, Protective Tony Stark, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 23:56:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14413227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parissnow/pseuds/Parissnow
Summary: Natasha Romanoff doesn't believe in anything. Not anymore. People will always have an agenda, always try to use her as the weapon she is, try to take and never give. And believing in anything causes hurt and disappointment. Tony Stark beaten and abandoned telling her the citizens need to be calmed after finding out his parents were murdered does not change that. IT DOESN'T.Soulmate au. Ish.





	1. Making a widow

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm still totally bitter. And am pretending infinity war isn't about to destroy my heart. So yeah. I'm going to live in denial for another couple of years. Come join.
> 
> Honestly the soulmate bit might be important later. But I doubt it.

Natalia Revoski was born blank.

 

The doctor and nurses surrounded the new born with equal measures of pity and reservation.  
"She was born prematurely." The doctor had tried to reason. Keeping his eyes firmly on the babes tuffs of fiery hair and away from the clear canvas of pale flesh."Maybe the marks didn't have time to develop." Her parents shared one brief glance of panic. One shared breath. Before pointedly scooping their tiny angel into their arms and cooing at her perfectness. They stayed that way. Never caring about her flawless skin and pointedly ignoring the inconspicuous mutterings of the people around them. The talk of monsters. Of no soul. And when their precious daughter was old enough to ask them of the whispers, of the distrusting gazes. Of why she was different. Of why she was a freak. Well their hearts broke as her tears did. But they didn't stumble. Just like three years previous they took a breath as one. Keeping their faces as blank as little Natalia herself. And told her of stories. The tales of great kings going half their lives markless, only to find both the silver and blue marks inscribed on their skin one magical morning. "Those soulmates were the strongest." Her father would hum atop her forehead each night. When the peoples stares would become too much. When their words too sharp. When she was so sure she deserved a life of loneliness. "You have to wait because the universe knows you deserve the best soulmate in the world."

They tell her of fairy tales. Of a fairy godmother appearing in a puff of smoke. Revealing herself as her platonic. Waving a wand over her body. The marks appearing bright and bold over her skin and guiding her to her one true love.  
"You are not a monster my sweet Natalia." They'd breath. Almost pray. "You are not soulless. They will come."

They so wished. So hoped.

And so Natalia Revoski believed them

Natalia Revoski was blank.

She was swept from her room in the depths of a dark cold night kicking and screaming at the tender age of seven. The last thing she sees before the world goes black is two sleeping figures, blanketed in crimson. Arms reaching out almost subconsciously in sleep. This. She thinks was the soul mated prince and princess her parents told her of.

She woke up to the feel of cold. So much cold. Her tiny body shaking. Whether from the shivering or the pain not even she knew.  
A hand sliding over her battered ribs makes her wince.  
The blow that follows makes her cry out.  
The fingers snaking their way across her neck, in a last quite threat forces her to open her eyes.

She thought it was a dream.  
Had believed it to be a dream.  
The frozen touch of the fist dragging her neck first to her feet proved differently. The sob it enclosed in her throat, more so.  
Still she looked up to the towering figure. He was still, so frighteningly still. The black leather swallowing all the brightness from her tiny world. She tried to edge her back further into the brick. Get away from the death attached to her before it swallowed her whole. It only achieved a metallic whirl as his grip tightened.  
"Rule number one." He growled. The black mop lowering so close her nose rubbed against the material guarding his mouth. "Assets do not feel."  
The ice of his stare catches her. Forces her to still. Incapable of looking away. The blue almost light enough to crack only for him to use the shards to gut her.  
"And you are to become the best asset of us all."  
The gaze didn't lessen, didn't stray.  
It was so strong.  
So blank.  
It terrified her.  
It called to her.

And so willing all of her strength. Natalia Revoski believed them.

Natalia Revoski is still blank.

And when the teachers of the red room learn this fact. They bare their teeth in what Natalia is sure is the only remnants of a smile they have left.  
Shockingly, this didn't encourage her.  
But she still believed. Believed in the man who had told her she would be the best. That she had to be the best. And above all she kept her first lesson close to her heart. so when they gleefully lead her towards a room, filled to the brim with others. With young girls like her. Battered bodies and glassy eyes. She did not flitch. Did not stop in her step. And when the blade was forced into her palm biting at her skin. As they told her she must replace a girl she found wanting. She made her choice.  
She looked to the girl in the corner. She had the sturdy stance of someone confident. Of someone feral. Her blonde hair cascading down her neck. Without blocking a single view of her face. But it was clear by a glance she wanted something. Something more. She was not like the others. Shifting between themselves. She stayed still. Glared at Natalia as if she was just a nuisance. As if she wasn't worth her time.  
She was heartless. They'd laughed.  
Soulless. They'd snorted.  
A monster.  
Well that would be what she would give them.  
Her skills where in no way precise. But with surprise on her side and the cockiness of her opponent so obvious. It only took a swipe of her wrist to her over elongated neck. Her blood painting Natalia's victory onto her skin. And really was she still a blank when her flesh was covered in other peoples lives?  
She turned from the body, not sparing it a second glance. Offering the knife back to the stern man guarding the door as she takes her place n their ranks. Later she would. Later in the cover of her dark cell she will allow herself one night to grieve. To let the bile rush to her throat. To scream about the fairy tales. About what could have been. About the unfairness of it all. And then she will promise it to be the last and only show of weakness. Her last chance to feel. She will take the blankness from her skin and reform it. Turn it into her everything. Her heart will be blank, her mind, her face. She promises. But for right now..

A weapon they will purr. A barrel of a gun forged and used only by their hands. Blank and without anyone to turn too.

The other girls will look at her with both pity and fright as they brush a hand across their marks. Talk to them, promise to keep them safe.

They're fifteen and the five girls left other than her are sent on a mission. Three return and its the first time she has seen any of them show such emotion.

Assets can not feel. She thinks.

And the jealous hatred she now receives from the remaining girls tells her she's correct.  
The keeper of these weapons will not leave that particular lesson to chance.

Still she climbed higher and higher above them. Hearing her teachers words. No one would ever love a monster, connections were to get in her way. She would become the black widow with a thousand faces. A myth, a legend, because she was blank. To her very core. They were right all along. She was soulless, heartless at least now she'd trained herself to be. Was it her fault the other girls didn't get the same head start?

She was worth every moment of their teachings they'd say.

And Natasha Romanov ( for surely Natalia died along with her fairytales.) Believed them.

Whether they believed it. After she let their world burn. After she destroyed every tiny thing they ever created. While they begged her to just let them die. Well she wasn't so sure.

The seven year old princess covered in blood in a brick cell. Dry heaving as she perished. Finally getting her vengeance.

That. Well that she was definitely sure about.

Natasha Romanov is blank.

But if she's honest. She's probably the only person still alive who's aware of this fact. What people are still aware of, at least in the right circles, is that the last remaining Black Widow is a ghost story. Only appearing to finish a job and even then its only known because it has been completed. She was considered an assassin once. The best in fact. Until it was decided that assassins have targets. Alone in one of her safe houses. Her traps firmly set and her knives being sharpened. She may have let her nose crinkle at that. Ever so slightly. 'Target' indicates you could occasionally miss. No a name given to the Black Widow was written on a headstone within forty eight hours. She would never do something as unprofessional as  _miss_. And that's not even bringing her other skill sets into it for god sake.

However though she may be a tad bitter about the skills she'd honed in for years not being even slightly acknowledged. Being underestimated wasn't exactly a terrible thing.

Especially when she discovered SHIELD were after her. 

It could have been bad. Could have actually been a challenge. Even for her.

But they forgot who she was. Couldn't get their hands on the files she'd burned long ago. The ones that left with all the rest of the people who ever thought they could catch Natasha. Mold her to be their pet. To own her.

SHIELD forgot that anyone who tried to harm Natasha tended to end up dead.

And so.

They sent a circus archer after her.  _A CIRCUS ARCHER **.**_ She honestly can't remember being this offended in her entire life. Even the red room at least saw her as the threat she was.

But no. This bumbling bafoon with an honest to god bow and arrow thought he could take her down. Marvelous.

So she let him catch her, let him follow her to a warehouse. Let this Clint Barton think he could best her. And as they stood opposite each other, her gun trained at his eye, his arrow one pull from her heart, she did what she did best.

"What do you want from me?" She sighed. The sound of resignation clear in the air.

The new fangled robin hoods grip didn't lesson. But his lips did quirk upwards into a goofy grin. "I'm here to eliminate a threat." He mock whispered. "Three guesses on who it is? No? Not going to guess. Fine. Be a party pooper. She's got red hair and is aiming a gun. At my face."

Natasha has an impeccable mask. But trying to stop this eye roll may be the death of her. "Can I have another clue?"

He snickered. Actually snickered. In her face. While she's aiming a gun at point blank range. She's starting to consider just letting the man go. Someone else will probably kill him for her in less than a week.

"Look you're good, really good if you managed to avoid me for over a month."  _Managed._  No. She has to be the one to do it. She'd never forgive herself if she gave someone else the pleasure. "Ever thought about joining the good guys? You know and not just killing whoever people want you to?"

She has to hold back a snort of her own. "What join you in playing hero?"

"Eh." He shrugs. "Tights are optional. Actually so are who you kill. What ya say Romanov, ever wanted to have a choice?"

A choice. She hadn't been able to make a choice since she was six years old. A life time ago. A different person ago. Even now, she may be free but what choice can she make? With her legacy? Her skill set?

This would still let someone be the trigger, shed still be in someone else's hands. They could click the safety off whenever they wanted. But she had the choice of when to shoot. And god. She wanted. How she wanted.

And so mind made up she lowered her pistol and stated. "Better move from that spot in the next ten seconds, if you don't want your brain splattering the walls, freak show."

His high pitched shriek as the ground he was standing on seconds prier exploded was music to Natasha's ears.

He never did find out where she'd hidden that rifle.

And as she was taken to Nick Fury and slowly but surely gained the surrounding agents trust. She let them think she wanted to get the red from her ledger, let them think she changed from the villains to the hero's. Let them think she gave a damn about anyone but herself.

Let them think she wasn't blank to her very core.

She let them believe.

Because Natasha Romanoff was fucking done with believing.


	2. Stark men are made of iron. Thank you very much.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I had my first go at writing my boii

 Natasha, like everything else, remembers every detail of the original press conference.

Not being seen for three years after his parents deaths he had a full coverage conference. Everyone was expecting him to be too young, to let Stane run the company whilst he continued to spend his fathers fortune as quickly as possible. To give up. The room was a buzz with chatter. The reporters were almost salivating at being able to knock this pubescent little rich boy off his high horse. To watch as he openly gave away everything Howard had made. They waited, teeth ready to gnaw at the tiny eccentric pretty boy with too baggy clothes and twitching hands.

Natasha was only ten at the time, old enough to be able to shoot a man from over a hundred feet away. She'd deeply considered it with Stark. A mercy killing may be the best thing anyone could give. After three years in the red room even she thought this was cruel.

Then a loud crack had filled the room. You could almost hear the hundreds of reporters jaws snap shut.

And there on the stage, hands still firmly together from the clap. Stood a stranger, capable of rendering the entire room silent in a single move.

He was young, with a finely trimmed beard and a scatter of messy brown locks slicked stylishly back. Aviator glasses perched on his thinly framed nose. And a suit that would cost more than most peoples houses, looking like he was born for it. But it was the flash of teeth, quick, hungry. A shark about to eat you whole.

He screamed predator, fight or flight and even the reporters squirmed trying to get away from that grin.

Natasha moved closer to the television.

"Stark industries." He began. "Was invented by Howard Stark in a time of war, and has since. Been the leading developer of weapons design."

He stepped closer to the podium, almost draping his arm around it.

"A multi million dollar company, helps the troops, keep the peace. Yada yada yada. And I mean we all love troops right?" He pointed towards an elegant blonde in the front row. "I mean you wanna keep our soldiers safe am I right?"

The woman could do nothing but nod.

"Excellent, very patriotic. As I was saying. Troops, love em, need em. Need to give em the best we can. Best technology, best fire power. Best things that go boom. That sort of thing. That's why I'm going to be taking over this company effective immediately."

"A multimillion dollar company? Does this posh nitwit really think he could pull that off at twenty one years old? What an ego he must have on him."

One of the reporters had snarled towards the camera. Vanity fair. A tough nut to crack.

"May as well sell your shares now." Another agreed.

The man arched an eyebrow, giving both men a clear view of his fangs.

"Well seeing as the stocks have reached an all time high because of my designs, that may be for the best."

"What designs?"

He waved her off.

"Sweet cheeks, I've been designing things that can decimate New York since I was ten. It's not my fault dear old dad took the credit. I can make the newest missile in our branch with my eyes closed. I mean I probably shouldn't. But where's the fun in that? Any other questions?"

A fairly more timid journalist raised her hand.

"Yes you, "

"So you'll be keeping the company in the same direction?"

"Nope." He chimed. Popping the P. "Howard was good, don't get me wrong. But he's no me. Multi million sounds great sure. But multi _billion_ , now that's got a good ring to it."

 No one could believe it. The entire crowd looked at him with disgust. Howard Stark worked on the Manhattan project, he was one of the main reasons for captain America for Christ sake. An all American hero. And this narcissist had taken one look at the shrapnel throne his father had forged from the great war. And found it  _wanting._

"Who the hell do you think you are?"  The same blonde spat.

The man had simply shrugged. Teeth still beaming as he slid his sunglasses down his face. Revealing glittering brown eyes. If he was upset by the questioning it didn't show. 

"Call me what ever you want." He winked. "You know who I am."

Merchant of death he'd later relay. Had a lovely ring to it. As he thanked the times for the imaginative nickname, but that was years later. After he'd proven everything he'd said as truth. Shown how iron and brimstone were inside his very bones.

For now he just stated. "Tony Stark is going to set the world on fire. And dares anyone to catch up to him. How's that for a headline?"

"And if everyone burns with you?" Another snarled. "Do you care about no one else. What would your soulmates think of this? "

Stark let out a tiny chuckle as he shuck off his jacket, not caring as it fell to the floor. He continued on popping his cuff links.

Everyone across the world took in a single breath. Refused to let it go. Natasha included. It was the utmost rebellion in this civilization. To even flash ones soul mark in front of strangers. Surely. Surely he wasn't that stupid.

But he continued. His fingers sliding his dress shirts buttons open with depth precision.

 No one could take their eyes away as he slid the entire shirt from his body. Turning his naked torso in a circle with a flourish to reveal...

Nothing. 

Just a canvas of pale olive skin.

A  _blank_ canvas.

Natasha's perfect mask had broken at that.  _There were others, other soulless people like her._ For one blinding moment the loneliness that was like a waterfall in her very being had stalled.

"Stark men are made of iron." He'd grinned. Sliding his glasses back onto his face. "It's not my fault everyone else is made of wax."

Natasha was positive this idiot would crash and burn faster than his fathers bombs.


	3. The beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I really didn't expect this much support! Small chapter, but after this we can actually start with the story. Oh my stars.

Tony Stark is a blank.

He down right stated it at a press conference three years after his parents accident.

It's common knowledge a this point.

The sky is blue, water is wet. The merchant of death is as soulless as his name sake.

So when Phil Coulson drops his file on Natasha's desk days after the iron man fiasco, she can admit she was... Curious. Not that she'd let anyone else know about that mind you. Oh no. She was still a professional down to her core. Even if she let Barton think differently.

"Mission objective?" She questioned, her eyes staying firmly on the agents face. It wasn't like she hadn't made a risk assessment, weapon check and exit strategy for the man. In forty five seconds she could be out of this building. Preferably before his stiff body hit the floor.

"Espionage. I want everything on him. From that flying death trap, down to what he likes on his toast in the morning. If you're up to it?"

"Mission perimeters?"

"Let's keep it clean if you can help it, Miss Rushman." She quirked an eyebrow at the name, but didn't question it. Sure it'd be in the file. She slid from her chair aiming for her small room on base.

"Oh and Natasha." He yelled, stopping her just by the door. Sometimes she swore a need for theatrics was in SHIELDS job description. "Try not to kill him. God knows it'll be difficult but-"

"Don't kill the genius billionaire. Got it Phil." The quirk of his lips would look so friendly. To anyone who wasn't Natasha. She was built from the blood covered ground. And even Phil knew she could smell it on him, the inner predator. He'd stopped trying to fool her with his pencil pusher routine within hours.

If she'd ever had an ounce of mortality they could have even become friends.

Oh well. She won't lose sleep over it.

The file, however. Certainly keeps her awake. She  _devours_  it.

Tony Stark is an enigma. A party boy from his teen years, only fueled further by his parents accident, and yet. He took his fathers million dollar company, reworked it and turned it into a billion dollar company. He claims to be with out a soulmark and his ongoing list of one night stands are witness to this as are his numerous sex tapes. And yet he's kept a best friend for over twenty years. Keeps relationships with a small circle of friends and honest to god keeps going. After his abduction he shut down weapons development only for his technology advancements to sky rocket stark industries stocks.

Natasha decided very quickly through this file that she hated this man.

That there could only be one side of him.

Because its not possible. Not possible for someone just like her. To be able to have everything she can't. how dare he? How dare he be able to trust? Be able to wash his hands clean? Be able to  _soar_. While she is still left in a pool of innocents blood, by her own making. Helpless and alone.

No. She is going to expose him for the lonely monster he is.

That they both are.

When she's through with him she'll make sure to find the feral beast gnashing his teeth.

And there, in the darkness of her room, for the first time she can remember, a real, honest to god smile forms across her lips.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I'm being really mean to these humans.


	4. Lawyers are just assassins that went to college.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick bit of stark lawyer love. Because I have this head cannon.

As Natalie slowly integrated herself into Stark industries legal team two things were abundantly clear. The first being that Stark paid as lavishly as he lived. And the second perhaps the strangest was that these lawyer were some of the most ferocious and cut throat civilians she had ever met.

She had tried for docile to begin with, tried to sneak into the back ground with a kind smile and pretty words, that plan had to be thrown out of the skyscraper within hours. 

They were cunning, they were honed and they had no problem going for the jugular. If only to taunt their victims corpse with how easy the law suite that destroyed them was to create.

It was always good, she supposed, that there was another career she could run to. If she was so inclined.

Who'd have thought the black widow would feel more comfortable in a room brimming with some of the greatest lawyers in her time rather than in her designated SHIELD barrack.

Maybe it was due to most being there from the beginning. From fighting others over who got to claim the destruction, the deaths, the explosions. She knew these people. People who went for the money over their mortality. There was a certain kind of safety to that.

Point being, she didn't just settle in. She thrived.

"Rule number one of the law department" as Natalie had been told by a sullen looking law secretary on her first day. "Tony Stark will stop at nothing to light some crazy ass fire and expect us to put out the flames." 

She had almost been giddy by that. Had realized not only her but an entire department knew the truth. That Tony Stark could and would only care for himself. Realized for now Natalie had to show distaste for the man. 

That was until they got wind of the senator hearing,

"Tony Stark privatized world peace." Jeffers had stated blandly one morning. Eyebrow arching in challenge.

"Excuse me?" She had replied. Like a damn fool.

He slipped the paperwork to her line of sight.

And there. In plain black and white, inside the legal jargon. Was an actual to god case that could win. That people may even trust.

"Stark privatized world peace." He repeats.

That didn't evict hope. "With the iron man weap-"

"With his high tech prosthesis. Yes." An amused glimmer lights his eye as he waggles more paperwork at Natalie.

She let the snort she was keeping roll out. "Okay sure."

"And just you watch he'll convince the world the same."

And so when the senator hearing was about to broadcast live. She made sure to get a front row seat with the rest of her colleagues. Waited for the cursing of his name to begin.

"Who's ready to see what shit Starks going to put Jeffers in?" Amanda hollered throwing bags of popcorn towards everyone in her sight. Natalie fumbling slightly at hers. Only for effect, of course.

" It's going to be carnage." Jenson grinned to her side hand already filled with the treat.

"Yeah." Natalie had replied bitterly. A frown lining her features. "One that we'll have to clean up."

"What are you-"

"Shhhh!" An intern hissed. "It's starting!"

She watched as the Stark CEO played off senators alike, as he offended and joked. Bragging about  _privatizing world peace_. And hacking army bases on live television for the love of god.

(She subtly added possible military threat to her on going list of Stark warning. Coming just under basically running around in a souped up  _tank.)_

All while Jeffers and his hoard grew smugger and smugger. Laughing about ' _Tony being Tony.'_ And ' _oops there he goes again, convincing the world whatever he pleased.'_

But no shock.

They all believed in Tony Stark.

 

The third thing Natasha begrudgingly learns about the law department. Is that they are ruefully loyal to their boss. And will destroy anyone that gets in his way. for the sheer  _pleasure_ of it.

For all that it erks her. She can't help having slight respect for his devoted lawyer army.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love the idea of the law department honestly.


	5. War and vengeance.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good lord that was hard work. Also you have no idea how many time I reached this part of the movie.

Stark was playing a game Natasha decided. As soon as the notery request even touched Natalie's desk.

Either a damn game or a publicity stunt.

Through all her extensive research and undeniable interest she was fully aware his genius status was in no way a hoax.

And there was no way, no chance that a certified genius, that someone like  _her_ would ever let someone else's hands on his company. She knew, god did she know, he hasn't lived through her lessons but surely Stane was enough. People like them were never trusted. So for  ~~them~~ him to have been betrayed so fully. So  _completely_ by the only man he'd ever trusted with his legacy. Well the only hands anyone would trust would be their own.

(And if she had read the fight report, well maybe a shiver of pleasure had ran down her spine as her body remembered the sweet heated embrace of her own betrayers life staining her flesh.

Maybe, just maybe she'd felt a burst of pride discovering one of her own trap his capture in an iron coffin, sinking to the bottom of the abyss. A warning to all that thought to take his place. 

Maybe she was just happy knowing his morality was as blank as hers. 

But no one other than Natasha would know either way.)

Point is he had an angle and she would find it.

Natalie was designed from the start not only to spark Starks interests but also Virginia Potts. She was a fiery red head. Yes. But she was also deathly competent, no nonsense and had what appears to be the patience of a god. Natasha was almost surprised they weren't braiding each others hair within the first week. So she was in no way surprised with the woman's attention. Even if the death calm and polite facade was something to marvel at. Coulson had declared the woman a walking saint after all.

And so curls loose neckline low and mask firmly in place. Natalie followed Virginia Potts into the gym.

"It's called mixed martial arts." She hears him tease from the hallway. His tone almost as warm as the blood in her veins. Coursed by the thrum of the hunt. "It's been around for three weeks."

"It's called dirty boxing. There's nothing new about it!"

**Harold 'Happy' Holgan**

**Occupation: Tony Starks personal bodyguard**

**History: low level professional boxer, stopped due to injury.**

**Weakness: sever back injury from the 80's. One civilian sister in Florida.**

**Threat level: minimal.**

She almost grinned to herself at the lack of security as she exited the hallway. Fully planning to head straight to miss Potts and ignore the huge boxing ring.

Only the sheer ice spreading across her back forced her to a stop. The command of fight or flight scraping together leaving her body immobile. She exhaled. Allowed her eyes to find the thing in the room that demanded she obey. 

Honey brown met opal green.

 The pumping rhythm of the chase in her chest turned into a glacial scream of  _war._

The penetrating gaze seemingly freezing Natalie whole as it used a battering ram to destroy it. Leaving Natasha alone and bare for the whole world to see. 

A flinch. Unseeable. But it was there. Natasha Romanoff flinched. 

And that. That was something she could never forgive. 

The hatred for that single act was enough to melt the ice surrounding her. Enough for her to look away from Starks violating gaze. Swiftly walking to the safety of miss Potts ignoring the gut instinct to keep her eyes on the stronger predator.

She was the black widow. She was not  _prey._

**Lack of bruising during 'combat training' suggests no proper skill. Minimal threat with out suit.**

And no, that did not make her feel better. She was not worried about him out of the suit to begin with thank you very much.

"I promise this will be the only time I get you to sign over your company."

Natalie suppressed a smirk at watching the great Miss Potts at work.

"I need you to initial here and sign at the bottom." She could almost see the older woman coo at her professionalism. As she tried to fight the urge of looking at the ring.

"Rule number one." Holgan stated. "Never take your eyes off an-"

The kick was swift, powerful and straight to the solar plexus. Natalie's head snapping up as Holgans body was thrown to the corner of the ring.

**Substantial combat training.** Natasha reevaluated.  **Further study needed. Possibly uses peoples underestimations to his advantage.**

She could have done a better high kick at eight years old. So she couldn't say she was impressed.

"What's your name lady?" He questions almost boredly.

"Rushman." She barely avoids spitting. Those eyes once again crossing hers. "Natalie Rushman."

"Front and center." He waves already turning his back to her. Like she was the dirt on his shoe, a door mouse next to a lazy cat. "Come to church."

She feels her teeth grind. Surely if her body has given her this many alarm bells from him. His is doing the same.

_I could slit your throat in five seconds._ she thinks, 

"No you're seriously not going to ask her-" Potts tries.

"If it pleases the court." He all but declares. "Which it does."

And whats left of her control tumbles. As the Black Widow gouges it away in a fit of bloody claws.

Not even hearing Miss Potts apologies as she heads straight to the ring. Face as blank as her skin as she pulls her body up through the ropes. Their eyes almost the same height with nothing between them.

Fear me. She wants to scream. See me for the threat I am. Realize we're both the same monster but you're out matched.

If he wishes to show her the frigid glaze of war then she will show him the furnace of blood and vengeance.

They stand like that only staring. A battle of wills. Of ice and fire. The Black Widow verses the merchant of death. Until finally he stops drinking his drink. Puts the water bottle down.

"What?" He asks. She doesn't reply, doesn't think she should give him the satisfaction.

He looks anywhere but her.

"Can you give her a lesson?" He asks Holgan as he escapes the ring.

It tastes like victory.

She listens as they discuss her. As he makes his tactical retreat to find Intel, clever.

But she knows as he talks about an assistant position she has achieved two jobs today.

Tony Stark has to crack any puzzle he finds. Even better if its already wrapped up pretty.

"How do I spell your name Natalie?" He asks in his ever cheerful tone.

She answers quickly happy to ignore Holgans sexist questioning.

 She doesn't worry knowing Coulson would have done all of her back story perfectly.

"Rule number one. Never take your eyes-" He repeats as she glances at Stark. And it's too perfect an opportunity. Too good to show Stark just how out classed he is. She takes his high kick. And raises him a full body neck hold, leaving his bodyguard gasping for air. Lucky him. She's used that move to kill much more than incapacitate.

Pepper screams at the impact.

Natasha waits for Stark to say something, to back off. To stop locking their gaze.

"That's what I'm talking about." Stark grinned coming towards the ring.

Damn it all to hell.

"I... slipped?" Holgan tries. As she exits the ring.

"Really?" Stark asks, his gaze warming at the sight of the other man. Mirth clear in his voice, "looks like a KO to me."

As Natalie retrieves her tablet, Natasha wonders how someone so cold and empty can fake such warmth. She quickly decides she's not a fan.

"I need your impression." She states forcing him back to her. His face still so comfortable.

His eyes still holding the chill of the coldest winter day.

How the hell is she the only one seeing it?

"You're quite reserved." He states. His eyes once again seeming to go through every one of her defenses, scrutinizing her. Finding everything she's tried so hard to bury away.  "I don't know you're an old soul-"

Absolutely not. It's time for her tactical retreat this time.

"I meant your finger print." She smiles sweetly. To soften the blow. On interrupting him or on her ego she's not too sure.

Just his stare and a few off comments having managed to throw her off. And she is furious. She needs to get out of there and regroup. Preferably before he comes to offer her the assistant position he's so loudly been discussing. She needs a way to keep this mask on no matter what. And she will find it.

He may have won this battle but she will win the war.

Natasha Romanoff is blank. Through and through.

Anthony Edward Stark will not ruin that.


	6. Work evaluation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I updated. I'm shocked at myself.

Natasha was not hiding.

  
She wasn't. Even if the stupid voice inside her head said differently. It sounded suspiciously like Clint's anyway. And he still believed Natasha was redeemable, so what the hell did he know?

  
It had only been three days since her initial meeting with Stark. And in her professional opinion there was no valuable information to debrief Coulson on as of yet. So no she was not hiding, she was staying true to her mission and keeping up Natalie's appearances as a good Stark employee.  
What would she tell Coulson anyway?

  
That she was walking through the lawyers floor intent on getting to Natalie's office and starting on the paperwork for Starks new race car?

  
That it had been three days.

  
Only three days since she'd met Stark briefly and maybe, maybe set something in motion. That she could have maybe set something slightly better but-

  
But it'd been three days since a civilian forced her to retreat.  
Three days since she'd almost blown her cover over a stare and a witty retort.

  
No. It was fine. She was fine. Coulson would just complicate things. _Shut up Clint_.

  
She'd give it a week and wait for Stark to contact her, and if there were no results she'd up her anti.

  
She'd get it done.

  
She was only four doors away from her office when the tell tale prickles echoed across her spine, a decade old gift from both the red room and a few close calls with previous snipers. Her deft eyes looking for anything a miss in the hallway and turning up nothing. The usual inadequate melody of an office work space the same as always, even with a few of the lawyers quirkier phrases added to the mix. The windows showing no clear vantage spots for any vengeful acquaintances with a grudge. But that meant nothing in Natasha's world.

  
So the caution stayed as she unlocked her phone, acting as though she was merely checking her schedule she flipped to the cameras she'd planted in her office.

  
In another life, she would have groaned. In this one she neatly raises an eyebrow.

  
Expect the unexpected. She muses. As she pulls her office door open. It's a cliché for a reason.

  
"Mr Stark."

  
The man was sprawled across her chair with his legs stretched across her desk. His crumpled white shirt sleeves lazily pulled above his elbows, exposing his forearms. As he studied some papers. He almost looked casual, save the matching orange tie and sunglasses.  
His lazy grin seemed to do the look the same justice.

  
"Ah miss... Rushman was it? Fancy seeing you here."

  
Was this... Is this another power play? What the hell is happening here?

  
For once Natasha let her confusion show. She was Natalie after all.

  
"This is my office." She stated with a point to the door. "My name is written across the window."

  
"Ah." He says, eyebrows creeping just above his glasses. Grin brightening even more. "So it is."

  
And Natasha gets it, she does, she understands how he's managed to fool so many people into believing him. Vicious sense aside, it's easy to believe this is just a charismatic man with a devil may care attitude. Hell people may even chalk the unease up to his charm or his admittedly above average appearance. But Natasha's not most people. And she knows the deadliest things are wrapped in the prettiest packages. She's a prime example of the fact.

  
"How can I help you Mr Stark?" She questions. "If it's about the race car I can promise you I'm-"

  
He swipes the rest of her words before they meet the air.

  
"Oh god no, nothing that dull." He says throwing the papers behind him in enthuses. "That deals already through. Just figured I'd see what you'd do with it."

  
Natalie's mouth opens, closes. Apparently searching for words. As Natasha's mind whirls.

  
Why would he do that?

  
"Why would you do that?"

  
There is, Natasha thinks, something to be said about playing the confused employee.

  
"I had a hypothesis that required further analysis." He replies blandly his feet falling to the floor.

  
The nerves of her spine feel like they're spasming, but this feels like a test that Natasha cannot afford to fail.

  
"And what's that?" Natalie asks, trying for indifference.

"Why?" He asks, seemingly tasting the question on his tongue. "Why do you interest me?"

  
Because I'm an undercover spy who's designed to interest you. She thought.  
Because we're both imposters, dressing and acting as humans to hide the demons underneath. A darker part thought. And it will be shown to the world if it's the last thing I do.

"I mean sure, you're competent at least, your coworkers seem to like you fine and you have nothing wrong with you. And you know you look like, well, that." He flapped a hand at her. "But I've spoken approximately a hundred words to you. And minus your little stint with my bodyguard you don't scream exciting."

little stint. She'd put Holgan into a damn leg hold that could have killed him.

"And don't get me wrong, kudos to your personal trainer and all but the last person who interested me threatened twelve people including five members of security while screaming at the top of their lungs."

Natasha blinked at that.

"You see!" He shouts. Pointing accusingly at her. "I just told you Pepper Potts went on a vengeful quest with pepper spray over a friggin numerical error that wasn't even her jurisdiction. And nothing."

Well, not nothing. Natasha gained even more respect for Miss Potts than before. She'd have to tell Coulson, the man may start a fan club in her honour.

"...Did you get an answer?" Natalie questioned.

Stark leans on his elbows, his body moving a few inches closer. Such a small measure shouldn't make a difference. But as he removes his stylish glasses and his calculating eyes evaluate her from head to toe with no shield between them, Natasha instantly wishes for them back. There was nothing sexual in the stare, that at least she could work with. No, instead he looked like she was a faulty maths equation he'd yet to solve. The silence seemingly echoing across the room until he finally locked eyes with her. She didn't appreciate it.

"I think." He breathed. His gaze not leaving, their souls clear to each other even through their costumes, his dark pits threatening even before the smile falls from his face. "I think I want to break you."

Natasha knows the feeling.  
Doesn't stop the throbbing in her bones though.  
Doesn't make her wish he'd just stop staring or that she could look away. But she's been watching this man since she was ten years old and she knows from experience how hard an old habit is to drop. So instead she gives herself this, looks into the monster and tries to see what everyone else must see of her. Of Natasha. But she can't, she can't because she knows how he feels. The need to take out the bigger threat and she reveals in it. Reveals in the fact that even through this mask he can still sense the danger. He just doesn't know why. Validation it turns out is one of the greatest feelings in the world.

After what feels like hours he runs a hand through his carefully crafted beard with a tired sigh. Before finally taking his eyes away and heading to the door.

"Papers will come through in an hour for you to become my PA. It's probably a stupid idea. But it's your choice." He states, hand at the door knob. "If you say yes I'll see you in Monaco tomorrow." He keeps his face towards the door. "But I think you'll take it. I think I interest you too."

Natasha doesn't, can't admit how right he is.  
"I'll think about it." Natalie says instead.  
Stark gives her a nod as he leaves.

Natasha calls Coulson and is on the first plane to Monaco the next day.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony: So hey, this is probably horrifying to the both of us, but I kinda get the urge to destroy you??? Like what the hell?????
> 
> Natasha: Took you long enough.
> 
>  
> 
> Huh. This story will forever not go how I originally planned.


End file.
